Variation Modification
by DawnGyocry
Summary: You remember the first time you really realized you were fucked up. You were five. First year of kindergarten, miserable as all fuck. The teacher told the boys to line up on one side of the room and the girls on the other. You don't even remember why. You just remember the result. Growing up. Davekat.
1. Chapter 1

**I've seen a lot of Trans!Dave fics, but a sad few Trans!Karkat ones. I've decided to take it upon myself to fix that.**

**As per usual, I will be using my Fanfiction account as sort of a journal of Rough Drafts. I'll post this story in bits at a time to keep myself motivated to finish the project. I'll put up the completed, revised work on A03 once it's complete.**

**Enjoy the first, sadly short installment!**

* * *

It's the first day of kindergarten. Your dad told you this would be a big day, and that you'd have lots of fun. You're scared anyway. You don't know anyone; you're too shy to try talking to anyone either.

The morning goes by pretty okay. Your teacher is an older lady, who sometimes forgets things. She has you introduce yourselves. When it's your turn, you nervously say your name, your favorite animal, who your family members are. Some of the kids laugh at your name. The teacher scolds them and tells you she thinks it's pretty. You want to tell her '_no_, my name is not _pretty_.' but she's moved on to asking the next student to introduce herself before you can.

Despite not having anyone to talk to, you do pretty well until the teacher tells you and your classmates to line up, boys on one side of the room and girls on the other.

You walk over to the boys' side, little fists nervously balled up, fingers clenching the hems of your oversized turtleneck. You hate how small you still are, tucked in between two boys almost twice your size. Your dad keeps telling you how much you've been growing, but you're not sure you believe him.

"What are you _doing_ over here?" one of the boys asks, staring down at you like you just stuck a toad in his hair.

You furrow your eyebrows, confused. Before you even finish opening your mouth to ask what he meant, the boy on you other side gives you a shove. You stumble out of the line.

"Get over there," the second boy says, making a weird, twisted up expression, like he can't decide if he's amused or grossed out.

"Wha," you sputter before your temper flares. "Don't _push _me!" you shout, stamping a foot down. You try to worm your way back in your place in the line, but they move close together so you can't get in. "Let me back in line! I was there first!"

"You're in the wrong line, dummy," the second boy says, shoving you back again.

"No I'm not!" you scream at them. You start to lurch at them but you're stopped by a big adult hand around your middle.

"Hey, what's going on here?" your teacher asks, a scolding look all over her face. You shrink into yourself, can't manage to find your voice to tell her that these mean jerks keep pushing you out of line for no reason.

"She's in the wrong line!" the first boy pipes up, looking very pleased with himself. You stick your tongue out at him.

"No, I'm not!" you shout back from the teacher's arm. You hate her for holding onto you. It makes you look weak in front of them.

"Ohh, oh, sweetie," the teacher says, suddenly sounding like she's talking to the puppy your neighbors had before someone ran it over. "The girls' line is over here, honey."

You want to protest, but it gets caught in your throat. You feel a wave of confusion roll through you as you let yourself be led to the opposite side of the room. You see the girls' hair, long like yours. See how most of them are wearing skirts like yours. And you realize your teacher's right, those boys are right, you do match this side of the room.

Knowing this doesn't stop you from sending confused stares across the room until your dad comes to pick you up at the end of the day.

* * *

He gets introduced to the class the day school starts again after winter break.

"Okay, everybody," the teacher says at the start of class, "this is your new friend, Dave Strider. He just moved here from the cities so make sure to be nice and help him out if he gets lost or anything."

You eye him curiously along with the rest of your classmates. His skin is pretty tan, but you can tell it must be from being outside so much, like he should actually be pretty pale if he didn't. He's got pink sunburn across the bridge of his nose and cheeks, despite it being January, sun darkened freckles speckled across the burn. His hair is almost impossibly blonde, a number of notches lighter than his skin, all swept to the side like some movie star. On his six year old face, it's pretty stupid.

Most stupid are these ridiculous triangle shaped sunglasses that are two sizes too big for his face.

"I thought we can't wear sunglasses at school," you say loudly before thinking about it. You're always doing that. You have a hard time controlling your mouth and everything you say always comes out too loud.

"Raise your hand first, Karkat," your teacher scolds, giving you a warning look. "And Dave is allowed to have his sunglasses because he needs them for his eyes. They're really sensitive to light and the glasses help protect them."

"And 'cuz they're cool as shit," Dave pipes up, his face straight.

You blink, mouth dropping open. There's a flurry of whispers around the room, some kids gasping about how he'll get a time out, or his parents called. Some kids are frantically asking what's wrong, what does that word mean? You've heard the word before from your dad when he gets really upset. Afterwards he always makes sure to tell you to never say that word yourself. It's a _bad _word.

The teacher ruffles in surprise, telling Dave not to say that word again or she'll have to call his home if he says it again. Dave just shrugs, says "okay," like he honestly doesn't care. Still flustered, the teacher tells him to sit next to you while she goes to get the letter tracing worksheets.

Dave plops himself in the chair next to you, looking like he's holding back a proud smile but failing. You frown and hunch your shoulders around your ears, your black hair falling like a veil over your face. Why does he have to sit by you? He's mean to the teacher. He makes you nervous.

"Sup?" he asks, leaning back in his chair and crossing his small arms. You notice some sort of juice stain on his sleeve. Dummy can't even drink right. You wedge your hands under your thighs and try to ignore him. "Hey," he says, pokes you.

"Don't _touch _me," you snap at him and your teacher gives you another warning look from across the room where she's gathering the worksheets. Dave looks like he's going to prod at you more, but stops himself when the teacher pointedly places herself between the two of you.

"Dave, stop picking on Karkat," she says, placing the worksheets in front of you along with a box of crayons. "And Karkat, I've told you a thousand times, use your inside voice."

You glare at her back as she turns to give the other kids their worksheets. You examine yours, recognize the sheet has your name written on it ten times, with dotted letters to trace. You look at Dave and realize his has different letters than yours - they must spell his name. Your face sours when you realize he has less letters to practice. Not fair.

When you reach for the box of crayons, Dave snatches it away, pulls the red crayon out of the box.

"Hey! I wanted red!" you whisper loudly at him, not wanting the teacher to yell at you again.

"I got it first," Dave says, starting to trace his letters. He sucks at it.

"But _I _want it," you protest. You're not pouting. You promised your dad you wouldn't pout.

"Here," Dave says, not even looking at you as he reaches into the box again. He pulls out the pink crayon and puts it in front of you. "Use that one then. It's kinda like red."

"But pink is a _girl _color," you frown, pulling your hands free from your thighs to push it back.

"Yeah, so?" Dave asks, his mouth also pulling into a frown. "You're a girl, so what's the problem?"

You don't know what to say to that. He's right sorta? You guess he's right. That doesn't make you any happier. "I don't want pink," you say stubbornly, reach back into the box, grab the first crayon your fingers meet.

It's grey. Probably the worst color in the whole box excluding white. You use it anyway. You catch Dave smirking at you in the corner of your eye.

You realize two very important things that day. One: you hate being treated like a girl. And two: you really hate Dave Strider.


	2. Chapter 2

You continue to hate Dave Strider for the remainder of the year. The boys in the class glom onto Dave, follow him everywhere, in awe of his stories of not having parents, just a 'cool as shit bro' who lets him do whatever he wants and lets him eat Doritos for dinner.

You, on the other hand spend much of the year by yourself. The boys won't let you play with them because you're a _girl_ and you don't want to play with the girls much since all they ever do during free time is play with Barbies and fake makeup. There is one girl with a funny name who loves cats that likes to play with you, but she's a bit too energetic for you most of the time, even if you are grateful at least someone likes to be with you. Most of the time you end up following your teacher everywhere. You're painfully aware how clingy it makes you look, but the boys tend to pick on you if you go off to play by yourself, and even if you don't you get lonely, makes you want your dad to come and bring you home.

Dave continues to pester you all year. He doesn't actively make fun of you like the other boys, but he follows you around whenever he isn't surrounded by his flock of stupid boys and won't stop asking you stupid questions and pushing your buttons. You always end up screaming at him which always just gets you in trouble. You've had to bring home a bad behavior slip for your dad to sign _twice _already. Your temper is something you've never had a firm grasp on keeping in check.

On the last day of Kindergarten, the teacher asked you all to come dressed up so she can take a picture of you to remember everyone. Your dad has you dress in a warm yellow dress, a white bow around your waist, and a yellow flower in your hair.

You and your classmates line up outside in two rows, the front row sitting down in a patch of dandelions. The girls all wear dresses and skirts like yours, the boys wear colored button up shirts and slacks. Except Dave. Dave showed up in ripped jeans and a t-shirt with a bowtie on it. He claimed that's all he had. You suspect he's lying.

You walk home that day with your older brother Kankri. He insists on holding your hand on the way back, like you're a fragile little flower and he's not just coming back from his last day of fourth grade. You make sure to 'accidentally' step on the back of his shoes on the way.

The summer is a relief, back to the way it was before you started school. Your dad works a lot more lately, he leaves early and comes home late, after suppertime, and usually goes straight to bed. You miss him. He recently decided Kankri is old enough to start babysitting you himself. You hate Kankri when he babysits you. He acts like a king, lectures you on everything possible. Secretly, you think Kankri isn't ready to be home alone, much less take care of you. You catch him crying in his room one night after making you toast. You ask him what's wrong, he says he's scared, he can't do this, he wants help, but he knows he can't have any. When you ask him why, he puts his head in his arms, says something about dad not having enough money, how he needs Kankri to help him more than he's ready for.

You crawl into bed with him, tuck yourself up against his side. You spend the rest of the night watching his boring movies with him.

When fall rolls around, as much as you don't want to go back to school, you're glad. It means Kankri won't have so much pressure to take care of you anymore, means your dad won't feel so guilty leaving the two of you home all day.

On the first day of class, you're disappointed to see that Nepeta, the girl who likes cats, isn't in the same class as you. _Dave _on the other hand of course is. He gives you a smirk, a little way. You scowl at him.

The first few weeks of school pass slowly. Loneliness has you hunched in your chair, shoulders up to your ears, long hair draped over your face. Some of the girls try to make friends with you but your hot temper and rough edges scare them off. The boys who remember you from last year pick at you when the teacher isn't looking, the ones who don't ignore you altogether.

All but stupid Dave Strider. He's still got his hoard of jerks that follow him everywhere, though this year it seems as though he's trying to shake them off his trail. During recess, he follows you to your hiding places under the slides, behind the large crabapple tree, beneath the lilac bush. He teases you, you shout at him. It takes a few days, but you start to notice his pokes at you aren't as malicious as the other boys', that he backs off the second he realizes he actually hurt your feelings. You can't stand him, but secretly you like his constant presence. It keeps you from being all alone again.

One day Dave brings two big sticks with him when he meets you behind your tree. He hands you one, expression blank. You take it and give him a questioning look.

"Let's have a sword fight," he says, a little, unsure smile on his lips.

You tilt your head, hold the stick awkwardly out in front of you. "I…don't know how."

"It's easy," he assures, holds his own stick out in front of him. He raises it slowly towards you. "Ain't you ever seen a swordfight before?"

"On t.v. …" you mumble, your stick drooping in your hands.

"Then you should kinda know what to do," he says simply, brings his stick quickly down towards you. Startled, you bring yours up to block. You manage to get your stick up fast enough so his stick doesn't whack you in the shoulder, but not fast enough to avoid jarring your wrist. "See!" he says excitedly, "Like that!"

"That _hurt_," you snap, rubbing your hurt wrist with your free hand.

"Don't be a sissy," he says, bringing his stick back up for another strike. This time you block without hurting yourself. Your temper flashes and you wildly swing your stick at him, hard as you can.

"I'm not a sissy!" you yell, missing him completely with your crazy aim.

Dave flinches in surprise as the stick swings past his shoulder before cracking into a huge grin. "Bring it on!"

By the end of recess your panting and frustrated. Dave has obviously done this before, not like you. You suck at this. But… regardless of your frustration, you find yourself genuinely enjoying yourself. That stick in your hand, the sweat on your face, it makes you feel strong, like a soldier, like your dad, like Dave.

When you ask, embarrassed, if Dave will fight with you again tomorrow, he smiles.

* * *

It happens one day when you get surrounded by a group of boys.

It's after school, you're waiting for Kankri to come pick you up from class, but you have to wait for him to walk from the other side of the school.

"Hey, Karkat!"

You look up from where you're sitting by the front door of the school. Your stomach twists as you look around for the source of your name. You didn't like the taunt in the way it was said. Your stomach ties into a tighter knot when you see the group of boys coming your way.

"What?" you ask, raise your chin as they reach you.

"We seen you hanging around Dave a lot," one of the boys, with ginger hair and freckles says.

"No," you say, glaring at him. "Dave is just stupid 'n never leaves me alone."

"Not what we seen," says another boy with a frizzy, start of an afro growing on his head. "We seen you fightin' swords with him."

"Yeah," says the first boy, along with another behind him. "Why you trying to act like a boy?"

You tuck your chin back down to your neck, letting your hair fall protectively over your face. "Just go away," you mumble.

"My dad says," the first boy goes on, stepping closer to you. You shrink against the wall. "that girls ain't 'sposed to fight."

"Yeah," says a third boy, "some o' the other girls play with frogs 'n stuff but at least none of them try to be a boy."

"Go play with Barbies or something," the first boy concludes. Your stomach boils.

"Stop treating me like a girl!" you shout at them, eyes squeezed shut.

"But you _are _a girl," the boy with the afro laughs. He reaches forward and grabs some of your hair. "See? Only girls got long hair."

"Ow! Let _go _of me!" You try to pull away, but it only makes the boy's grip on your hair yank harder against your scalp.

"Hey! Leave her alone!"

You open your eyes to see Dave running up to the group of boys, shove the one who has a hold on your hair. You wince as a couple strands of your hair gets yanked out when the boy stumbles back.

There's a fight. You cry. Dave gets sent to the office to wait for his brother to talk to the principle. Kankri looks like he wants to cry as much as you are when he finds you curled up by the wall, your hands covering your ears, shouting at the teacher who's trying to get you to calm down.

* * *

That night, before your dad gets home, you lock yourself in the bathroom with a pair of scissors.

You glare at your reflection in the mirror, eyes still swollen and red against your dark irises. You use your left hand to pull up a large lock of hair, and raise the scissors with your right.

You close your eyes as the first clump of hair falls to the floor.


	3. Chapter 3

Kankri yells at you when you finally come out of the bathroom, hair butchered unevenly, standing up in all directions without the weight to hold it down anymore. When your dad comes home he yells at Kankri for not keeping a better eye on you. Kankri cries, which makes you cry because you didn't mean to get him in trouble.

You can't stop your broken hiccuping as you dad tries in vain to cut your hair evenly.

When you go to school the next day, your dad puts a ribbon in your hair to disguise the massacre you did yourself. It doesn't help. Everyone laughs at you.

You crawl back into yourself, shoulders hunched, avoid eye contact with everyone. Even the teacher takes pity on you and doesn't call on you.

You refuse to talk to Dave anymore.

* * *

Dave never gives up chasing after you, even after you scream and shout and kick him and punch him hard enough to give him a black eye.

It takes you until spring to start opening up to him again. By then your hair has grown back out just past your shoulders, the weather's warm enough for you to start wearing skirts again.

He crawls up to you where you're making pictures in the dirt under the slides.

"Hey," he says, scootching to sit next to you. You glare at him, but for once don't immediately start screaming at him. He seems to take this as permission to keep talking. "I, uh, got you a flower," he says, holding a dandelion up to you. You stare at it dumbly at he reaches forward to put it in your hair. You sit in silence for a moment before he starts talking again, in a small, most not-Dave voice. "I'm really sorry I couldn't protect you that day."

It might be the smallness in his voice, or the way his fingers are curled defensively around his kneecaps, or the way his shoulders are hunched nervously around his ears. Something. Something makes your insides crumble like a half dry sandcastle on a beach. Your fingers curl as you bring your hands up to your chest, face dissolving into a silent sob. You shake your head, accidentally dislodging the dandelion from your hair.

"N-no," you choke, breaths coming out in short, dry sobs. "I'm sorry."

After that, some unknown dam breaks behind your eyes and you're sobbing wetly into your fists, snorting against the back of your hands, too upset to even bother with being embarrassed at how gross and pathetic you're being.

Dave shifts next to you, leans down to pick up the dandelion and put it back in your hair. You don't even finish opening your eyes all the way before he's warping unsure arms around your shoulders, both your bodies twisted into uncomfortable angles. Your hiccupping pauses for a moment before you bury your face in his chest.

When you finally cry yourself dry, you sit back straight, nervously avoid Dave's eyes. He coughs uncomfortably, drags his fingers through the dirt.

"Wanna play swords again?" he asks.

You nod.

* * *

The two of you become inseparable. You spend your recesses scouring the playground on adventures. You're fearless knights battling against the strongest dragons, investigating secret passages and planning ways to save the kingdom. When Dave asks if you'll be his princess, you wrinkle your nose and shove him. You tell him you'll be his king if he promises to follow you anywhere. He laughs and promises he will.

When Dave asks you to a sleepover at his place, you spend the evening before fretting over what to bring, what you'll do. You've never spent a night away from your dad and brother before. Your dad is also weirdly excited and nervous as he drives to the address Dave gave you. Kankri sits in the passenger seat next to your dad in the beaten down car, arms crossed, eyebrows scrunched. He keeps complaining to your dad about him never taking _him _anywhere. Your dad just shrugs and says it's because he's never asked.

When you get to Dave's small town house, near the edges of town, your dad walks with you to the door. You hide behind his legs when the front door swings open. Dave excitedly gestures for you to come in, you warily eye his tall brother as you tiptoe around him into the house. Your dad and Dave's brother stay at the door to chat as Dave leads you to his room, energy rolling off of him.

The weekend at Dave's is one of the best you've ever had. His brother is scary at first, but he treats you like you're strong. You decide you like him, even if his weird puppets kind of creep you out and he has the unfortunate tendency to walk around the house in nothing but his boxers. Dave's room is full of lots of video games, and you spend most of the weekend playing Super Smash Bro's. He beats you a lot at first, but once you get the hang of it, you start winning just as often as you lose, though Dave makes fun of you for using Pikachu at the time.

Summer comes quickly now that you have a friend. You spend most of your weekends at Dave's. You want to invite him over to your place too, but your dad is still gone a lot and he says he doesn't feel comfortable with you having friends over while he's gone.

Once summer hits you begin to notice how withdrawn Kankri is getting, especially now that you're gone a lot of the time too. When you're not at Dave's house, you make sure to bother Kankri as much as you can. For as bossy as he is and for as much as you pretend to hate him, he's your brother and you love him. You worry about him. Your dad worries about him, brings him out to the park sometimes while you're at Dave's.

Dave's brother also takes you places, feeds you lots of junk food and lets you watch movies you doubt your dad would approve of. By the time school starts drawing near again, Dave's brother feels like he's your brother too.

Second grade becomes stressful as you start getting homework and spelling tests. It helps that you're in the same class as Dave again. Dave always forgets to do his and has to have his brother come in more than once to get a lecture from your teacher. You remember to do your homework (mostly because Kankri won't stop pestering you until you finish it), but you don't do the greatest job on it. You do okay in Reading and Writing, but you do awful in Math and Art. Even though he always forgets his homework, Dave is good in almost all subjects, especially Music.

Dave has an annoying habit of getting you to laugh or snap at him during class, which usually ends up with the two of you in trouble, staying in for recess with the teacher. You always yell at him when it happens, but he seems to take it as a joke and the more you yell the more he laughs.

The girls still avoid you and the boys still tease you, but so long as you stay close to Dave it doesn't bother you too badly. The boys are all too scared of Dave's bro to pick on any of his friends too badly. It hurts your pride to hide behind Dave so much, but there isn't much you can do about it. On the off days when Dave has to stay home, you curl back into yourself as the taunts start coming your way again.

One bad afternoon when Dave is gone, the boys gang up on you during recess while you sit idly on a swing. They taunt you with their soccer ball, egg you on as they mock how a little girl like you couldn't play with them, couldn't keep up.

You stare at the ground, will them to go away, but it only makes them angrier. You bite the insides of your cheeks, don't shout at them, don't shout. You try your best not to snap, you really do, but when the soccer ball one of the boys throws at you hits you in the stomach, you lose yourself in flurry of fists and shrieks.

In the end, you've got a black eye, a bloody nose, detention for a week, and are nearly suspended. Your dad grounds you for a month. When Dave gets back to school and asks what happened, he gives you a fist bump.


	4. Chapter 4

After you're free from being grounded and hanging out at Dave's house on weekends again, Dave's brother starts teaching you how to fight. You have to promise him you'll only use it to defend yourself, same way Dave's been taught. You eagerly nod, excitedly eyeballing the swords the Strider's have hanging from nearly every wall. You're pretty disappointed when Dave's bro has you start off with really basic blocking techniques and has you doing pushups, but with Dave training there beside you, it makes it a lot more fun. Plus, Bro always makes the two of your really yummy snacks when you're done.

You make sure not to tell your dad about learning how to fight. You're not sure if he'd be happy if you did. You do slip it to Kankri though, and after he gives you a short, high and mighty lecture about how violence is not the answer, he sheepishly asks you if you can show him a few blocks. You snark at him a lot as you show him how to hold his hands and where, but at least you agree to it. He seems weirdly satisfied after his mini-lesson.

Your confidence grows as your fighting skills do. It makes sword fighting with Dave a lot more fun since now you actually know what you're doing. Plus, something about the way you stand now, or walk, or move, or _something _has been acting like a neon sign on your head that says 'don't mess with me, I know what I'm doing.' Not that it completely fixes your bully problem, but it helps tone it down a bit. It helps that Dave has been super stubborn about not missing school anymore too.

The best part of second grade is now you're getting to read novels. They're pretty short, but your classroom as a little bookshelf full of them and on the days you're not over at Dave's, you're devouring through the novels. Your dad tries to read to you some when he has the time, but he usually _doesn't _have the time. Kankri offers to read to you with his 'excellent, above average reading skills.' You're reluctant to let him at first, you like reading yourself, but loneliness and his incessant pestering eventually breaks you down and you give in, sitting curled up next to him on the couch. Despite just starting middle school, Kankri turns out to be really good at reading out loud. You tell him he sucks. He ruffles and insists that he's reading four years above his grade level. You believe him but don't say so.

You also don't say how much you want him to keep reading whenever he has to stop.

You spend most of your alone time holed away in your room, eating through one novel after another. You steal some of Kankri's books when he's not looking so you can try reading longer books. You like them better.

When summer comes you go back to nearly living at Dave's. About half way through the summer, your dad gets a week off of work and says you should invite Dave over so he can finally meet him. You're roiling with anticipation the day he comes over for the first time, running back to your bedroom every few minutes to make sure everything's perfect for when he gets to your house.

When he finally gets to your house, your dad and his bro stand by the front door, chatting to long about stupid adult things. You fidget impatiently, Dave shoots you silly looks. Your dad looks a little thrown off by Dave's bro, but they act nice enough to each other, even if Bro has a funny was of coming across.

When Bro finally leaves and you and Dave dash off to your room, Dave informs you that your dad is too stiff for his own good. You admit to him that he can be a bit of a crab, but tell him that your brother is the stiff one. An impish grin crosses his face and he bounces giddily on your bed.

"Then that means he's the best to mess with," he says.

You agree.

* * *

Third grade goes by without much of a hitch. Your dad has deemed Kankri old enough to babysit you _and _Dave, so he gets to come over a lot more often. Dave loves poking at Kankri's every last nerve, and though Kankri tries to hide it in front of his 'guest,' he always rants about how much he hates Dave when he's not around.

Bro's got you and Dave working on more advanced fighting techniques. He gives Dave his first real sword but says you're not ready yet since you started training later than he did. You make sure to glare at him for at least the next two weeks. Secretly you think Bro finds it funny, which makes you glare at him even more.

You still hang around Nepeta on the few days that Dave is gone from school, but she's gained this hulky new friend who just moved to your school. He's not so bad really, pretty nice, but _awkward_ and he always get really sweaty which makes you feel kinda gross just being by him.

You find out Nepeta's older sister is in your brother's grade when she comes over one day. She got crazy poofy hair and is way too spastic and loud for your tastes. When you tell her this, Kankri yanks you away and gives you and eight minute lecture about how she talks loudly because she's partially deaf and how insensitive you are but all you really get out of the conversation is that Kankri has a major crush on her and you intend to use that as blackmail first chance you get.

Other than your occasional bully that pops up when Dave's not around, you think your life is pretty good, regardless of the fact that your dad keeps bringing home less treats and starts buying you cheaper clothes.

You first get a little hiccup in your life in the beginning of fourth grade. At least, it starts as just a hiccup. Another teacher from another classroom comes into the room and says that he's taking all the boys into a separate classroom while all the girls had to stay in your normal classroom. Your stomach does that uncomfortable little twist it always does when you're forced to stay with the girls instead of going with the boys, but you've long since learned where you're expected to be, what your place is. You wonder if all the girls feel like that.

Something in your gut tells you they don't.

You're suddenly super glad that you sit in the back and that seating is every other boy - girl - boy, you're by yourself and that's quite the way you want it. You hunch your shoulders forward and wedge your fingers nervously between your thighs. Something tells you that this is probably going to be an uncomfortable lesson.

The second the teacher says you're having a 'girl talk' you realize you're right.

By the end of the hour you think you're going to be sick. Why do you have to bleed out of somewhere you _pee? _And oh, just the idea of shoving something up _there_ has your stomach tossing bile up your throat. You nervously pull your hands away from your thighs, try your hardest not to think of what's going on between them. You feel disgusted, betrayed by your own body.

You realize most of the girls look at least some degree of uncomfortable and that makes you feel better. There are a couple girls though, who proudly share that they've already _started _their periods, state it like a medal of honor, which bewilders you. You stare at the small breasts that have already begun to push their way out of their chests, stare at them like alien growths, like monsters, and suddenly you're grateful that you've always been a late bloomer.

When the boys come back in, everyone's giggling, like, 'ooh, we have a secret that you can't know.' You're staring blankly at your knees when Dave slips into his chair next to you, looking abnormally pleased with himself. It sort of makes you want to punch him. When he leans over to you, you flinch slightly. He asks in a too-loud whisper what your lesson was about and you shove him away.

You have a hard time looking at him for the rest of the day.


End file.
